I spoke [Mother's] name into it, and all of a sudden I heard your mother singing a lullaby to you as you gradually stopped crying. You must have just been born, for I as yet had had no news of your birth.
"You could speak to them," the Lord said.
"No," I said. I'm afraid that I began to cry. I don't want her to feel what I feel, listening to her but not being able to touch her. Better that she shouldn't know." (3.81-83)
"Dragons," Father went on, "protect their own brood." (5.65)
"Perhaps…" Miss Whitlaw tapped a finger against her lips for a moment. "Perhaps the truth of the dragon lies somewhere in between the American and the Chinese versions. He is neither all-bad nor all-good, neither all-destruction nor all-kind. He is a creature particularly in tune with Nature, and so, like Nature, he can be very, very kind or very, very terrible. If you love him, you will accept what he is. Otherwise he will destroy you." (6.165)